Arranged Marriage

The first meeting was the best. I could hear the words in an old Malayalam movie, ``Kittiyaal Ooty, pottiyaal chatty.’’

When I met her, I did not have to think about her family and all that. That had been vetted by my folks. Of course, I did `browse’ for basic compatibility. They seem ok – nothing to write home about, chalega. That’s all that you need with in-laws, right?

She and I have met a few times. It is nearly-fixed, I think. The folks are negotiating and smoothing some wrinkles, stars and what-not.

I do admit that I did fall for her looks. Nothing hanky-panky so far; well, I didn’t want her to run away crying rape or wolf or whatever.

Compromise is supposed to be the name of the game, here. But, that is not really the issue; the biggest problem here is – getting the relevant details.

So much time spent on that – time wasted. Coffee shops for expensive coffee and brownie, ice-cream parlours for sundae and unsatisfying sandwiches, a long car-ride, a movie with only shoulders touching, a walk in the park, a meeting at home; getting to know each other, coy matrimony, my foot; it was bloody diplomacy really in need of Wikileaks.

It was like an extended job-interview. I had to probe and spot the tell-tale signs. If I am not mistaken, being stuck with the wrong spouse is rather like being stuck with the wrong employee.  Gratuity and provident fund; an HR game with responsibility and head-aches, assured bonus and a lot of perks; a lawsuit if things go badly; non-cooperation at the wrong place at the wrong time; nearly everything except semi-annual assessment of performance (they say that that is expressed between the lines, mostly through non-cooperation). It was tough getting the information.

When I sounded serious and asked her some really serious questions, she laughed. I defused the situation by joining in and pretended to be a good sport. Later, I heard her giggling with her siblings and cousins. I am still trying to understand the joke in:

·         Are you interested in having kids?

·         Do you want me to take the AIDS test?

·         Have you taken the AIDS test?

·         Will you be with me for more than 75% of the year?

·         Is it ok with you if you and I take care of our kids rather than our parents?

·         Are there any pending affairs?

Then, she got serious and I laughed. She didn’t look very pleased and so I put on a serious face and answered `Yes’ to her questions:

·         Will you come with me for Art of Living?

·         Can you get a job in Chennai? My sister and family are there, you know?

·         Can you stop smoking and drinking?

·         My parents and younger sister are going to Singapore and Malaysia on a package tour. Can we go with them for our honeymoon?

·         I do not want to deal with any pending affairs. Ok?

·         Are you interested in having kids?

I felt like prompting her to ask specific questions. She allowed me to say `Yes.’ without specifying the `When?’ That is why I thought she was joking.

I would have loved it if I could have presented a twenty-twenty questionnaire; an asterisk and lots of fine print indicating that terms and conditions do apply and that any violation of contract would annul the contract with immediate effect. The same twenty questions to me and to her; hit it right or get out; pukka twenty-twenty format, minus the cheer-leaders. Why would anyone lie with such a questionnaire?

I do hope the next generation gets through the decision-making part with simple and specific questionnaires. At worst, it will be a speed-date that ends with the first, the best meeting; otherwise, it will end in an ideal marriage.